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As Isabelle gazed into the white-wooded cradle containing the form of her nearly two-week-old newborn son, a wave of immeasurable pride and warmth spread through her being. In the course of twelve years since her having borne her husband another daughter (though he claims to have been quite enthused at having gained another daughter as beautiful as his eldest, Isabelle could decipher the truth within his stony and wearied gaze that he had been slightly disappointed), she had given up all hope of producing another child; specifically a son her husband could name as his heir. However, now nearing her thirty-first name day, Isabelle did manage to appease and oblige her husband by producing him the long-anticipated son, Benjamin Levi Baddock.
However, her pride and undeniable love for her son did not stem from her having thus fulfilled her duty as any good wife ought, rather it stemmed from the fact that the one child whom she had so longed to birth into the world should so resemble her as her dear Charity did. Her biological daughter inherited her colored hair; her heart-shaped face; her skin complexion, and it would seem that young Ben (as she has come to refer to him as) resembled his mother and elder sister. Of course, there was a hint of Irina that Isabelle found in Benjamin, but she just concluded that it must be the likeness of their lips and left it at that. Irina would soon return home to the household, hopefully of an altered disposition that allowed her to bestow a kindness upon her trying step-mother that whole-heartedly put forth her efforts to ensure that Irina became a respectable young woman that can claim that she has been subjected to a fine education, but Isabelle dared not get her hopes up. She had learnt her lesson when she had been younger and had been confident of gaining Irina’s trust, and she decided that after Irina’s having taken her offer of a French tutor to assist her in her studies in an atrocious manner that she should not bother too very much for Irina’s wellbeing. Irina was a woman now, and she had best only guide her in the right direction in the most subtle manner possible whilst letting Irina being entitled to pursue her own ambitions and opinions.
With a resigned sigh, Isabelle reached into the cradle and Ben made a slight noise at being stirred from peaceful slumber, but made no object to being held in his mother’s arms. “Oh Ben,” she cooed at the young infant in her arms, his drooping eyes assessing his mother’s face as she spoke in a hushed tone, “Mother has a kind heart, yes? She has not hurt anyone, and even if she has, it would not have been intentional. She vows to sought out the good in others; including her own step-daughter whom she finds is rather flighty and temperamental. She informs her husband of her doings before she acts upon them; for instance, your elder sister, Charity’s betrothal to a Mr. Westley Davis. Charity Davis sounds quite handsome, don’t you think, Ben? Oh..”
Isabelle often does this, entering her newborn son’s room, holding him in her arms and speaking to him as if may reply. Most people would just conclude that she was just a lonely housewife (which was not far from the truth) with her children having all ventured towards school or life with her husband being an absent figure in her household due to business, but Isabelle consoles herself with the fact that she had gotten so used to speaking to her stomach that she just rather found her newborn son to still be a confidante; however much many of society would judge her assumptions to be false. However, it would seem as if she was truly not alone at all as she suddenly heard the creaking of the nursery door opening, and thinking it was her husband, she said without turning away from the cradle, “Come in quietly, my love. He just fell asleep.”
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tag: Charity | outfit: here
| notes: none<br/>
made by Emily exclusively for Charming</div></div></center>[/dohtml]